Survival of the Fittest
by MoonWallker
Summary: The twins finally decide to make a major change of their roles in the war.


**Title**: Survival of the Fittest  
**Rating**: T  
'**verse**: AU, G1  
**Characters**: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and mentions of Prowl and Jazz  
**Warnings**: Cursing, some mild violence  
**Summary**: The twins finally decide to make a major change of their roles in the war.  
**Disclaimer**: TF doesn't belong to me.

* * *

"You're acting insane! That's supposed to be _my_ job!"

Sunstreaker cuffed him lightly on the head, "Idiot! You agreed to it before."

Sideswipe scoffed, "Well, yeah! But that was well before we got stationed in Iacon."

"It makes no difference." Sunstreaker growled.

"I beg to differ, brother dear." The red twin crossed his arms, "We're front-liners. _FRONT_-_LINERS_." He raised his voice, punctuating the words as if they explained all, "We charge first and leave last. It's always been that way, and it's not gonna change just because you got some sense knocked into that thick helm of yours."

This time Sideswipe was able to dodge Sunstreaker blow and went to sit on the other berth on the room, away from his twin. It rarely got used since they preferred to recharge together, but it seemed like tonight it would be put to use.

"This was always our plan!" Sunstreaker snarled, "Even before joining the Autobots!"

"But it's different. They chose our positions. Do you think they'll see us differently when we ask for change of our specialty?" Sideswipe started tapping his pede. Damn it, why was his twin so stubborn?

"Because we prove it time and time again!" Sunstreaker spread his arms in exasperation, "It couldn't be clearer during out last battle when the comm. links got cut off from the officers."

"It was a fluke."

"Damn it, you slagger!" The golden twin advanced, "It was most definitely _not_ a fluke! I took over command, I directed that section of the battle! And we won!"

"Gee, Prowl must be so proud." Sideswipe snorted, "Oh, wait. He isn't! Because last time I checked, when you went to ask him for mentorship he glitched and sent you to the fragging brig! This is stupid, why are we fighting of this _again_?!"

Sunstreaker started pacing in the room, otherwise he might just literally (and painfully) slap some since into his brother, "Because we should be more than just front-liners. We're more than just brute force! You always wanted to be in Special Ops! But you never even asked Jazz!"

"Because all he's gonna do is laugh in my face and think I'm joking!" Sideswipe threw a pillow at his brother when he came close. Sunstreaker promptly ripped it apart.

"We'll make then listen, show them that we are serious."

His brother snorted.

"I mean it Sideswipe! We did not come all this way to Iacon, survived the slagging Pit just so we could be wasted away." Sunstreaker felt his patience wavering. He had given up drawing, refusing to touch a paint brush. He sometimes sketched but it was so rare that the golden twin could barely remember when he did that last. Sunstreaker wasn't giving this up without a fight.

"We'll be the laughing stock of the army!" Sideswipe argued but over the bond they both felt the hope that lingered there. "How'll they react when they hear that we resign from the wreckers so that I could become some spy while you a tactician? It sounds absurd!"

"Since when do we care what others think?!" Sunstreaker loomed over his brother, "We always prove them wrong! We'll prove them in this as well."

"Wasn't I supposed to be the optimistic one?" The red twin muttered as his brother growled, clenching his fists. "Tacticians are supposed to be calm. Last time I checked, you didn't fit in that category."

"I can be calm!" Sunstreaker scoffed, "During battles, especially the last one!"

"Yeah, another thing – Tacticians stay in the back, waaay back of the battle. Are you sure you want to give up ripping out 'cons heads for that?"

"I can manage." Sunstreaker said, "This is not just about me. You can be a great Ops agent, you prove it with your constant pranking."

"That's the most solid argument I've heard you say all night." Sideswipe said sarcastically.

That's it. Sunstreaker pounced. It resulted in a small scuffle as fists were exchanged and quite a few curse words before the two brothers lay on their backs on the cold ground of their small quarters, panting.

"You do realize, it's gonna take one Pit of a convincing on our part to get this done?" Sideswipe turned to look at his brother. "It's not gonna be easy."

Sunstreaker muttered something about his finish and lightly kicked him, "Since when has life been easy on us?"

"Point."

"… We're totally going to get slagged for this."

"Oh, so you finally grew a processor-ow!" Sideswipe rubbed his helm, "Whatever, I just wanna be there, recording, when you propose this to Prowl. It'll be one Pit of a show."

Sunstreaker sat up and looked down at his brother, "Me? It's you who should worry. Special Ops is filled with mechs missing a few screws in their helms. Frag, I still wonder how Jazz got the position as their leader!"

Sideswipe smirked, "Unlike most mechs, I'm not fooled by his smile. He's got his dark sides."

"More like insane and bi-polar." Sunstreaker muttered, "You'll fit right in."

"So we're really doing this, huh? Leaving the front-lines I mean?" Sideswipe asked quietly.

"I admit, I'll miss tearing those 'cons to shreds, but yes." He looked the red twin in the optics, "We're leaving."

"Cool." Sideswipe was silent for a couple of moments, before adding, "Two cubes of high-grade that Prowl crashes."

Sunstreaker smirked, "Three that Jazz will laugh in your face."

"You're on!"


End file.
